


Midnight In The Garden Of Good And Evil

by Caffiend



Series: Jaguar Villains - Thomas and Maura [4]
Category: Jaguar "British Villains" Commercial, Only Lovers Left Alive (2013) RPF, The Night Manager (TV) RPF, Tom Hiddleston Fandom, british actors
Genre: BDSM, Delayed Orgasm, Diana the Huntress - Freeform, Dom/sub, Erotic dancing, F/M, Finger Fucking, Flirting, Heroes, New Orleans, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Villains, burlesque club, dominate Tom, saucy wench, sex on a tombstone, strip club, voudou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 14:39:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11442966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiend/pseuds/Caffiend
Summary: In which Thomas and Maura take a much-needed break to the Big Easy. Also, finger-sucking, girl kisses and an utterly profane encounter.





	Midnight In The Garden Of Good And Evil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dianamolloy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianamolloy/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, sweet Diana Molloy! Your delirious humor and lovely education into all things carnal is deeply appreciated by us all. Heart your face and all the fleshy bits underneath.

“Darling, it’s not that I’m complaining, but I would imagine a strip club would be last on your list for a memorable evening out.” Thomas was allowing himself to be pulled along by an eager Maura, who was heading for a brightly lit club, sultry music drifting out the open door.

The greeter at the door knew a live one when he saw her. “Ah, pretty lady, bringing your man in for a little something something? I love you already, chere'!” His patter drifted off a bit when Thomas gave him a cold side-eye. “Eh...enjoy your night…”

Maura giggled a little, feeling silly after three glasses of champagne and quite unlike herself. Much more like her saucy stage persona at the- and here she shuddered, as she always did when she thought of the hellhole that currently employed her- the Silk Slipper. Giving herself a little shake, she looked to Thomas, who’d stepped up slightly ahead of her, arm curved around her waist and subconsciously shielding her from contact with anyone else. “I know, but this is New Orleans,” she beamed up at his beautiful, amused face. “And the Mignonne is a burlesque club- the best in the states, they say.”

“Mignonne,” Thomas mused as he seated her in a more secluded corner, “French for saucy wench?” He chuckled, ordering drinks and settling back. “Charming. I’m actually intrigued.”

“As you should be,” Maura said pertly, “tonight The Huntress is performing.” She opened one of the little cards on the table and showed him a picture of a deliciously voluptuous woman with purple hair, red lips and a knowing smirk. “This is the kind of dancing that actually interests me- and the only person who can see it,” she purred, leaning in to whisper against Thomas’s neck, “is you, Daddy.” The girl tingled a little as she heard an answering growl rattle through his broad chest. There was something so utterly arousing about bringing the feral side to life in the cool, collected man beside her- who never seemed to break a sweat. “Smooth bastard,” Maura thought admiringly.

Thomas moved one hand down to rest high on Maura’s thigh, idly sliding it back and forth, inching up the hem of her pretty flowered dress. His eyes were moving over the room, and Maura knew he was automatically searching for each exit by instinct, just as she’d made sure both their seats were backed up against the wall. Some habits never change...not when they keep you alive, she thought. Thomas’s pinky just brushed the thin silk panel of her undies, and Maura almost jumped out of her seat. “Careful Pet,” he murmured, not looking at her as his damnable pinky continued to brush against her eagerly moistening pussy. “You don’t want anyone knowing what a naughty little girl you are, do you? The kind of tasty slut who gets wet for her Daddy in a strip club?”

“It’s- it’s a burrrr…” Maura bit her lower lip sharply as his finger slipped under the flimsy silk shield covering her center, “a… burlesque club, Daddy.” She was spared further torture from Thomas’s silky, cultivated drawl as the emcee stepped on stage.

“Mesdames et Messieurs!” he bristled dramatically, “I will not make you wait- not one moment more! All your love now for Diana, The Huntress!” There was a raucous round of applause with much hooting and hollering, while Maura looked around and smiled. There was a different feel here than the soulless strip club where she was forced to perform. Everyone was laughing, leaning forward and enjoying themselves, nearly as many women here as men.

She tried to close her thighs with a little moan when Thomas began stroking her again, but one softly uttered warning of “Pet...be a good girl for Daddy…” made Maura slowly spread them again, feeling utterly wanton. Her attention was thankfully diverted to the little stage as a deliciously buxom woman made her way to the mic. The Huntress was lavishly garbed in a extravagant purple velvet dress with a side slit clear to the silky side of her g-string. Long white gloves, and-

“What is that on her head?” Thomas drawled, leaning forward for a closer look. Unfortunately for Maura, his ring finger had joined his pinky to stroke up and down her slick opening.

“It’s...um…” Maura groaned. As if she could focus on anything else beside those rough fingers playing with her! 

It was, in fact, a hat. A frothy creation on those purple curls that upon closer inspection turned out to be the figure of a seagull diving for chips. It swayed regally as The Huntress began a long, slow curl of those wide hips, which made all sorts of lovely reverberations to those impressive breasts, Thomas thought. Looking down at his Maura, he smiled to see her cheeks bright red from his attentions beneath her dress and her seafoam eyes trained on the stage. The little four-piece band started up, and the throaty voice of The Huntress began the song “The Big, Big Bang.”

 

“I don't wanna love

I'm gonna take what you're givin'

'Cause I know you're willing

To take me all the way

You got me right here, impossible

And I can't wait to finally explode..”

 

Slipping off her long, gloves, The Huntress squeezed them together against her breasts, making them nearly overflow her velvet dress. Thomas watched the ample, pink flesh of the woman onstage sway and jiggle, men’s eyes following the movement of her breasts like ripples on a pond. His two fingers inside Maura, however, had been joined by a third, slowly scraping along her slick walls and carefully avoiding the one spot she wanted him to touch. Her hips began shifting subtly, trying to make his strokes move closer to that magical spot that Thomas alone had taught her was more than a myth. All it took was one softly spoken “Pet…” and Maura moaned a little, reluctantly stilling her movement. Her channel clenched against his hand suddenly when her cruel Daddy pushed his thumb onto the fleshy button of her clitoris- hard.

The Huntress graciously leaned over to a table of excited gentlemen, allowing one of them to reverently unzip the side fastening to her dress, which dropped with a dramatic slither of velvet to her ankles. She was clad only in her sparkling g-string and a bralette that did absolutely nothing to cover the generous mounds of the dancer’s breasts.

Maura’s hands had a death grip on their table, knuckles white as she attempted to control the lower half of her body while the upper half was suddenly suffused in chills as The Huntress tensed her thick thighs and swept her generous bottom low over a slack-jawed patron’s lap, then up again, undulating towards their shadowed table. The lights from the stage followed her, sparkling lovingly along her fleshy curves, the deep red of her mouth as the dancer continued to sing.

 

“The big, big bang

The reason I'm alive

When all the stars collide, in this universe inside

The big, big bang

The big, big bang

The big, big bang”

 

“Daddy,” groaned Maura as his fingers suddenly seemed to develop an interest in pressing against that little patch of tissue that had been needing his attention for the past few minutes, “oh! God, that feels-”

Thomas continued to watch The Huntress jiggle through the audience, each table seeming to sway towards her as she passed by, shaking her wide ass and running a blood-red fingernail along a shoulder or an arm. Putting his mouth directly to Maura’s ear, he began speeding up the sharp, hard thrusts inside her. “You must come now, Pet. If you don’t, the spotlight will be on our table as this Diana comes closer, and everyone here will see you fucking yourself on my hand.”

Maura’s head dropped against his shoulder, “Oh, Daddy, I don’t think I can.” Stifling a shriek as his thumb began circling her clit with the same ferociousness as his fingers, she felt her thighs begin to shake.

“Yes, you can,” urged the voice of Satan, amusement clear on Thomas’s face as he watched the delicious movement of all that lovely, pink flesh moving closer to them. “Do it, baby. Come for Daddy right now, or I’ll start slapping your clit while everyone watches you.”

Maybe it was self-preservation, maybe those last, filthy words from her Daddy’s deep, exquisite tone, but Maura felt herself let go, gushing over his hand, her seat, dripping down her legs. “Oh, my _god,”_ she murmured in horror, clenching her thighs together, flushing even more at Thomas’s pleased growl. He rode out the last of her shudders, sliding his fingers along tingling nerves and quivering tissue. Hearing her pitiful attempts to stifle her whimpers had him almost painfully hard, and no respite within the immediate future, because The Huntress was upon them.

Climbing gracefully onto their table, the voluptuous creature finished her song with a flair, playfully wiggling her peachy ass at the club. Her kohl-lined eyes drifted from Maura’s flushed, panting self to the calm demeanor of her handsome companion. A sultry smile widened her mouth as her gaze drifted down to the edge of the table, where Thomas was just smoothly sliding his fingers out of Maura. Displaying one hand, The Huntress smiled at Thomas, who seemed to understand the exchange as a shaken Maura watched, wide-eyed. He presented his glistening fingers and the dancer’s hand took his by the wrist, leaning in to suck them into her mouth.

“Mmmmm...lovely, chere’. You taste like spun sugar.” The Huntress grinned as her eyes dropped to the snug, platinum necklace the girl was wearing. “I must follow etiquette, chere’ and ask your Mister for a kiss.” Her red lips widened still as Maura audibly gulped, but she looked to Thomas, whose eyes had turned a deep cobalt. At his slight nod, Diana The Huntress leaned over and placed her mouth on Maura’s, who gasped but held still for the long, appreciative kiss. The rest of the audience cheered, not fully understanding the erotic tableau before them but always game for hot girls kissing each other. 

“Your belle fille,” The Huntress nodded to Thomas, “un adorable animal de compagnie.”

"Merci, chasseuse,“ Thomas purred in return. “C'est un moment que je n'arrêterai pas d'oublier.”

 As he pulled Maura from her chair, he casually dropped his napkin on the little puddle of her slick, winking at The Huntress, who laughed and waved goodbye. Walking just behind the girl, he shielded the rest of the club from seeing the humiliatingly large wet spot on the back of her dress. As they hit the heavy, moist air of the New Orleans night, Thomas’s hand tightened on her upper arm, pulling her back against his chest. “I can’t wait,” he hissed, “I have to fuck you now.” Maura instinctively ground her ass against him, moaning as she felt him stiffen against her lower back. He’d been looking up and down the street, deeply thankful the Mignonne was not centered on some tourist hell like Bourbon Street but instead on a green, winding road in the Garden District. Thomas abruptly started off in a different direction, not quite dragging his Pet with him. “Ah, yes,” he gloated, his British accent turning darker, thicker somehow, “I thought as much.” He’d paused in front of an elaborate iron gate, locked, but open in moments with a twist or two of the narrow knife he always carried. Swinging it open, Thomas pulled Maura through.

"Beautiful…” she gasped blissfully. The half-moon smiled down on the heavy foliage inside, a small, square garden filled with flowers and statuary and guarded on all directions by the back of a brick residence. Looking closer at the statues half hidden by draping vines and lush bloomed, Maura realized they were religious. She felt Thomas’s hands strip her of her panties and push her against a stone bench, leaning her over with her ass presented to him. “Daddy, we can’t- not here- it’s…” Her protests died as he slid into her, a long, smooth stroke that seemed to push through all of her, his thick weight setting off tremors of pain and arousal along her sensitive channel. Maura could feel his hips pressing hard against her ass, circling as if to work more of himself inside her. A gasp of air escaped her as he slid in just a fraction more than she could bear. One hand wavered up and slapped against the marble statue, trying to brace herself against his thrusts.

“There’s my sweet girl,” Thomas praised, drawing his cock slowly out, then sliding back in as she gasped again. “Taking Daddy’s cock so nicely. Shall I tell you how pretty you look, darling? Pushing your soft ass back against me, wanting more...what? Pain? Is it hurting you, baby?” Pulling out again, enjoying the sight of his glistening shaft, streaked with her juices. Pushing back in sharply, he hastily placed a big hand against Maura’s mouth, muffling her shriek. “Or does it just feel good? Painfully, profanely good, little girl?” He was moving faster now, slapping his hips harshly against her bottom.

“Daddy, wha-” Thomas’s hand fisted in her hair, yanking the girl’s head up to look above them.

“Do you see that statue?” He purred into her ear, his glee at their surroundings  making her feel as if the ground was about to open and Hell swallow them whole. “That is the Goddess Erzulie, the Voudou goddess of passion and fertility. Look at you, worshiping at her altar.”

Looking around as much as she could with Thomas’s hand still in her hair, Maura realized this wasn’t a garden of Christian saints, as she’d imagined, but a beautifully detailed tribute to the Voudou gods and goddess.

Thomas began moving faster, one hand pushing her hips back against his as he held her gaze up at the goddess. “Beg her for your orgasm, little girl. Pray to her to come.”

Maura’s jaw dropped, the sporadic access to the Catholic faith during her childhood in Ireland rising to reproach her. “Daddy, I…”

His pace was painful now, but still Maura’s pussy greedily slicked his way through her, and Thomas chuckled, his hand leaving her hair and sliding to her neck, pressing the artery delicately. “Pray, darling. You’re not leaving here without begging her and coming on my cock. And I want you to gush again, pour yourself all over me, soak my balls, your thighs…”

Once again, the aural alchemy that her Daddy used too well sent Maura deeper into the moment, and she moaned obediently, “Goddess Erzulie, I beg- oh, GOD, Daddy! I beg you goddess, my queen, I beg you to let me come!” For a moment, a cloud swept over the moon, sending the Goddess into shadow and making it almost appear that her terrifying, endless gaze was upon them. Maura fell in a helpless string of orgasms, making her shake and moan, her knees giving out and the last one spent impaled on Thomas’s heavy cock as he spurted inside her. All Maura could do was stare at the Voudou goddess and whimper as Thomas groaned in satisfaction.

“You’ve made me soaking wet, my good, _good_ little girl…”

  
  


“Your belle fille, un adorable animal de compagnie.”

= Your beautiful girl makes a lovely pet.

 

Merci, chasseuse. C'est un moment que je n'arrêterai pas d'oublier

= Thank you, Huntress. This is a moment I'll not soon forget

 

  
  
  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't heard Katy Tiz sing the "The Big, Big Bang," I highly recommend it. It's very hot and burlesque-y, and I actually (painfully, awkwardly) shimmied to it for a fundraiser last year. God, I hope everyone's cellphone exploded all at once.


End file.
